


Sorrow and Wonder

by Estrella3791



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Banishment, F/M, Grieving, I Don't Even Know, I wrote this a long time ago please don't judge me, Poor Kíli, Rivendell, he deserved to live, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 17:51:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estrella3791/pseuds/Estrella3791
Summary: “Look at me, Tauriel, meleth nîn,” he said, his heart pounding in his chest at the term of endearment he’d just used. “You are more than worth it. I love you more than life itself, and I will gladly lay down mine for yours, if I must.” Tauriel’s face was full of both sorrow and wonder.





	Sorrow and Wonder

**Author's Note:**

> So I reread this and it's even worse than I remembered. Read at your own risk. There are writing no-nos and stereotypical damsels in distress galore. (Okay, not really. There's only one damsel in distress. But considering that she's not SUPPOSED to ever be in distress... well.)  
> I own nothing!  
> Enjoy! :)

Numbness had slipped over her as the blade pierced Kili’s abdomen. She did not feel the tears on her cheeks, or the pain in her body as she and Bolg tumbled over the edge of the precipice. She was fairly sure that she had cracked some ribs, but it wasn’t bothering her. There was blood running down her face, and there were bruises all over her body.  
But Tauriel had felt nothing until she came back and knelt by Kili’s broken body, and then pain had pounded on her from every side.  
“No. Oh, Kili. No.”  
He should have lived. It did not matter that he would die eventually, anyway. She didn’t care. She gathered Kili into her arms and pressed her forehead to his and rocked back and forth.

 

Thranduil found her sobbing over Kili’s lifeless form. She looked up at him with eyes filled to the brim with anguish.  
“If this is love I do not want it. Take it from me.” She looked back at her Dwarf, the one who was never truly hers, the one whom she loved. “Please.”  
She wanted to die. She wanted to die more than anything. Perhaps in the Halls of Mandos there would be some way to see him, to talk to him, to tell him she was so, so sorry and that she loved him; that he was her ‘amralîme.’ But even if that were not the case, anything would be better than walking forever alone, doomed to wander the earth without her love.  
But Thranduil did nothing, and her heart clenched in her chest, and in despair she asked, “Why does it hurt so much?”  
Thranduil spoke without any audible emotion, and yet Tauriel could tell by his eyes that there were indeed feelings swirling behind the deep blue.  
“Because it was real.”

 

She heard the conversation. She may have been grieving, but she was by no means disconnected from the world. Her keen ears picked up on every word that passed between Legolas and his father, and she felt nothing but shock for a moment.  
She couldn’t believe it. Legolas, her best friend, was leaving. Legolas had always been nearby; ready to help her out of any trouble she recklessly tumbled into. All her life she’d been able to turn to him for advice, assistance, or comfort. How could he leave?  
Upon a little more thought, however, she’d never given him a reason to stay. He’d loved her, and she’d known, and yet she’d still been willing to go chasing after a Dwarf.  
But she’d loved that Dwarf.  
The arrival of the old Dwarf named Balin interrupted her whirling thoughts. He bowed his head at the sight of Kili’s body, and she saw fresh tears begin to carve tracks through the traces left by other ones. And then she felt a sob rip through her body, and she joined him. They cried together until they were both hoarse, and when they were too worn out to weep any more, she gathered Kili into her arms, and Balin helped her carry the young prince back to Erebor.

 

The battlefield was a terrible sight to behold, even for a Captain of the armies of Mirkwood. Lifeless Men, Dwarves, and Elves lay scattered among the orcs. Tauriel was dismayed by the number of casualties. The only one she had paid any attention to was Kili, and while she had been doing that many of her soldiers had been slain. Guilt and horror mingled, and she felt hysteria rising in her throat.  
“Balin,” she whispered hoarsely, “I don’t think I can do it.”  
Balin looked at her with warm eyes, and she felt yet more guilt for ever believing Thranduil’s lies that all Dwarves were uncaring about anything but themselves or gold.  
“You and I both know that you can, lass. Be strong. For Kili.”  
The old Dwarf’s voice cracked when he said Kili’s name, and Tauriel felt more tears sting her eyes and burn her throat.  
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I am weak.”

 

As the day wore on, she proved, to Balin at least, that the opposite was true. He saw her strength as she dug graves for her friends, tended the sick though she had almost more injuries than the ones she treated, and comforted those who had lost loved ones even though her own heart was broken. He saw her shed no tears, nor did she show any signs of weariness as she worked hour after tireless hour.  
But she fell apart when they buried Kili. She threw her arms around the body one last time, sobbing hysterically. She felt her heart breaking as the Dwarves lowered him respectfully into his coffin, and she turned away.  
She was in more pain than she had even known was possible, she was so weary that her very bones felt tired, and she had wept so much that she was out of tears.  
She was in search of some form of shelter when she heard Balin calling her name.  
“You don’t have to leave, lass,” he said when he caught up with her. “Your people will not leave for a while yet.”  
Her people. Tauriel chuckled mirthlessly.  
“My people have forbidden me to ever enter the Greenwood again, Master Balin.”  
Understanding and pity flashed across Balin’s face.  
“Would you like to stay here?” he asked. “You’d be welcome, and Erebor is plenty big enough for us all.”  
Tauriel felt her heart swell with gratitude.  
“I cannot express my thanks for your kindness, but I must go. Farewell, Balin.”  
He looked at her for a moment, and then shook his head. The simple gesture expressed much more than acceptance of her choice; Tauriel read both good wishes for her future and sympathy for her loss in it.  
“Goodbye, lass.”  
Tauriel turned and walked away from him, and, though it was by her own choice, she felt utterly alone. And then she remembered that Legolas had left. She laid her hands on a nearby mare who looked nearly as exhausted as she herself felt and swung herself up, ignoring the protests her battered body offered as she pushed the horse into a full run.  
“Legolas!” she called with all her might, wincing at the sharp pain shooting through her body. “Legolas!”

Legolas stiffened at the sound of a voice calling his name. A very familiar voice.  
Tauriel?  
He raced in the direction of the sound.  
His sensitive elven ears had picked up on the pain and weariness in her voice; a kind of pain and weariness that would not leave her standing upright for much longer.

Tauriel felt herself slipping into unconsciousness. She’d long since fallen off the mare, simply because she couldn’t seem to keep her balance, which was very strange for an Elf.  
It hurt. It hurt so much. Kili was gone…  
“Legolas!” she shouted one last time.  
She felt herself sliding into the darkness, falling, falling…  
Strong arms caught her before it all went black.

Legolas had arrived just in time to see Tauriel start to fall, and somehow he’d managed to catch her. He gently picked her up in one smooth motion and started back toward the place where he’d made a temporary camp. He knelt by the fire and spread his cloak on the ground before carefully laying her on it.  
He couldn’t stop a surge of joy from leaping in his throat, even though he was indeed greatly concerned and worried. But even his great concern and worry could not stop him from feeling relieved and glad that she was there in front of him. He’d thought he would never see her again. She had gone to save the Dwarf – her love, he remembered with a pang in his heart – and he’d gone to find this Strider. But clearly fate had other ideas, and had brought them again together.  
He caressed her cheek. She was badly bruised. He slipped his hand beneath her head to raise her up and she let out a low moan. He gently turned her over to investigate.  
“Oh, meldis,” {friend - female} he whispered when he felt the broken ribs and saw the many wounds. She stirred and he quickly rolled her so that she was once again on her back. Her eyes flickered open, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the cherished hazel.  
“Legolas?” she rasped. Legolas stroked her hair.  
“Hush. Try to rest, meleth.” {love}  
He was horrified at his slip, and opened his mouth to apologize for calling her his love when he had no right, but she only shook her head and sat up. He tried to protest, but she stubbornly forced herself to her feet.  
“A curse upon your stiff neck,” he said with a small grin. Tauriel did not smile, and Legolas immediately felt guilty. The sight of her face made him worry even more. “Tauriel, what’s wrong?” Tauriel’s face crumpled. She was crying. “Tauriel!” Legolas said again in distress. Tauriel sobbed harder, and he stepped closer. She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder. Legolas felt numb for a minute, and then wrapped his own arms around her as tightly as he could without injuring her further.  
“He is gone, Legolas,” Tauriel cried, and her voice carried all the despair and anguish of a broken heart. “He is gone.”  
Legolas’ heart broke for her, so much so that he could not even delight in the feeling of her embrace and her body in his arms and her hair under his hand.  
“Who, Tauriel?” he asked, for even though he guessed of whom she spoke, he was not certain. So many had perished. 

His voice was tender, and Tauriel felt herself calm slightly at the soothing tone of his voice. And then she thought about the answer to his question, and her newfound serenity was shattered.  
“Kili,” she choked out as sobs wracked her body. Legolas said nothing, but he held her close and stroked her hair, which was far more comforting than any words could have been. Eventually pain overcame her and she forced herself to stop crying, knowing that it would only worsen with every heaving breath she took. “Legolas, mellon nîn,” {my friend} she finally said, “I am injured and weak. I have no strength. And he is gone. What shall I do? Where shall I go?”  
Legolas rested his cheek lightly against her hair for a moment, and then he tenderly lowered her back onto his cloak.  
“You will stay here with me,” he told her softly. “I will tend your wounds and you will rest.”  
She closed her weary eyes and Legolas felt his heart swell with love for her. He knew it would be forever unrequited – her heart belonged to the dead prince of Erebor – but he loved her nonetheless. As her breathing evened and her mind slipped into dreams, he set about caring for her injuries, singing softly to her the whole time.

 

Tauriel woke to a forest with no memory of how she got there. She had bandages wrapped around various parts of her anatomy, and her ribs were bound tightly with a cloth. It hurt. And then the events of the previous day flooded into her memory and her broken body heaved with sobs once again.

Legolas returned from watering his horse to see Tauriel huddled on the ground, weeping. He let the horse go and rushed to her side. She calmed amazingly quickly as he wrapped his arms around her and whispered comforting nonsense. She wiped her eyes.  
“I’m sorry, Legolas,” she said with a sniff. “You have done so much for me and yet I can do nothing but cry. Goheno nîn.” {Forgive me}  
Legolas shook his head.  
“It’s all right. Lie still.”  
She obstinately tried to stand, but she clearly lacked the strength and collapsed back onto the ground with an ‘oof.’ Legolas chuckled.  
“I tried to warn you,” he reminded her, and she gave a small smile.  
“Indeed,” she said. “However, you also told me that tripping Galion would never get me into trouble, and I find myself doubting that your advice is very good.”  
The memory made Legolas laugh harder, and Tauriel smiled a little wider. Legolas was still chuckling when he brought over a simmering broth. Tauriel shifted into a more comfortable position and accepted the steaming bowl. As she took a sip, her eyes widened.  
“It is good, Legolas,” she said. His eyes twinkled.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” he teased. She smiled again and drank some more, only stopping when the bowl was empty. Legolas took it, pleased, and then leaned down to place a hand on her forehead. He worried by the warmth that he felt there.  
“Sleep,” he said softly, and she obediently closed her eyes. He carefully put out the fire and went to sit by Tauriel. He had begun sipping his own soup when she started thrashing around in her sleep. He ran his hand over her hair. “Be at peace,” he said in Sindarin. Tauriel relaxed and he pressed another gentle kiss to her forehead before gulping down his dinner. 

 

Over the next few days, Tauriel developed a raging fever. Legolas wet cloths in the nearby stream and pressed them to her burning face. She moaned and thrashed about constantly. It was the fifth day since the battle when she opened her eyes. Legolas looked at her in relief, but the hazel he loved was murky with delirium.  
“Kili,” she called. “Kili!”  
“Hush.” Legolas tried to calm her and took her hand. She clutched it tightly.  
“Kili,” she said again, and Legolas saw a tear trickle down her cheek. “Meleth nîn, {my love} meleth nîn, why must you leave?” she wept. Legolas felt a stinging behind his own eyes. He gathered her close and wiped her forehead once again with the cloth.  
“It’s all right,” he crooned. “It’s all right. I’m here.” He rocked her back and forth far into the night.  
After Tauriel’s fever broke she recovered rapidly. Within days she was helping him guard themselves against the many dangers in the forest. Legolas was able to more appreciate her skill with a bow, and more than once she caught him staring at her with a peculiar expression on his face. One such time she wondered what Kili would think if he were there, and the thought brought a pain which she had not anticipated. Legolas noticed her expression and frowned.  
“Is something wrong, meldis nîn?” {my friend – female} The gentle warmth in his voice undid her defenses and a tear slid down her cheek in blatant rebellion against her wishes. Legolas came closer. “What is it?”  
Tauriel threw herself against him, heedless of the many reasons it was not a good idea. He cautiously put his arms around her and drew her close. He was strong and warm, and she clung to him, anchoring herself against him. Though he ran a hand over her back, which was lovely, she had no idea that he was reveling in her closeness. When she had calmed down a bit, she explained her outburst into his shoulder.  
“Kili. I’m sorry, really I am. But, Legolas, I loved him. Truly.”  
She broke down again.  
“Shh, meldis, I understand. It’s all right,” Legolas said soothingly. “It’s all right.”  
Tauriel nestled a little closer, and Legolas felt like his skin was going to ignite where she touched him. A shiver went down his back.  
“Hannon le, {thank you} Legolas,” Tauriel said softly. Legolas felt a fierce protectiveness over her burn in his heart.  
“You’re welcome,” he assured her.  
She smiled.

 

Over the next few weeks, the two exiles became even closer than they had before. There were a few times that Legolas wondered if there might be something that was more than friendship in her eyes when she looked at him. It sent a spark of hope to his heart. Was there a possibility that his love was returned? Could it be? He sent up a silent prayer, hoping against hope that it was so.  
He knew that they were trying to get to Rivendell, but he found himself in no hurry to get there. He enjoyed having Tauriel all to himself, and the feel of her arms wrapped tightly around his waist when they rode double didn’t help matters. So the days passed, and he and Tauriel wandered, making shelters out of branches, bathing in cold streams, eating what herbs and vegetables they could find.  
Tauriel, for her part, found herself growing fonder of Legolas than she had ever felt before, and this affection was accompanied by an emotion that surprised her in its intensity. The pain of Kili’s death slowly faded away, and she wandered if she might be allowed to try again for love.

And then one day everything changed.  
Tauriel heard a sound in the woods behind them and squeezed Legolas’ waist to alert him, not willing to make a sound in case it betrayed their position to some foe. He stopped the horse immediately.  
A harsh cry made Tauriel jump of the horse and fit an arrow to her bow.  
“Orcs!” she called to Legolas, who had come to the same realization and already had his bow strung. He nodded. At the sound of her cry, a black arrow whistled past them. Both of the Elves sent arrows in the direction from whence it had come and heard two thuds. Apparently they were two enemies down.

When the remainder leaped into the clearing, Legolas almost sighed in relief. Their number was only five and would be easily disposed of. He and Tauriel quickly finished two more of them before they even had a chance to act. The third he pinned to a tree with a dagger. And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the orc who seemed to be the archer draw his arm back and aim at Tauriel. With a shout of alarm he realized that she could do nothing while she was engaged in combat with the other orc. The arrow left the string with a twang…  
Shouting her name, he leaped in front of her. A sharp pain seared through his side, and he fell to the ground. He knew he didn’t have much time. The arrow had to have been poisoned; he could feel it spreading through his body. He heard Tauriel cry his name, heard the twang of her bow… and then he knew no more.

When Tauriel realized what Legolas had done for her, she let out a fierce cry of rage. With a skillful thrust of her dagger, she skewered the orc she’d been fighting and quickly turned to send an arrow plunging into the archer. As soon as she reassured herself that the entire band of orcs was slain, she turned and ran to Legolas. She saw no movement, and she felt herself weeping.  
“No,” she cried. She couldn’t lose him, too. Not after she lost Kili… she wasn’t strong enough. “No, Legolas!”  
And then she saw his chest rise and fall, and cried harder in relief. He was alive – though the blood seeping out of his tunic was most definitely not a good sign. He was wounded severely. Tauriel stood and whistled for the horse.

 

Legolas’ eyes flickered open. He groaned as he felt a pain in his side. He felt a start as he saw a face hovering over him, but he broke into a smile when he realized who it was.  
“Lord Elrond.” His voice was croaky and hoarse from disuse, but Elrond smiled back at him.  
“Legolas.”  
Elrond crossed the room and poured a cup of water. Legolas drank, feeling the cool drink hit his parched throat. He set the cup down when he was finished.  
“Tauriel?” he asked, and though his voice was louder and clearer it was also full of concern.  
“Resting,” Elrond told him. Were they doomed to speak in one word sentences? Elrond chuckled, and said, “Obviously not.” Legolas was mortified to discover that he had said the last thought aloud.  
“I am sorry,” he began, but Elrond lifted a hand and he subsided.  
“She is resting. She refused to leave your side until she was satisfied that I had completely cured you. It was only after she inspected the bandages, asked about the poultices, and felt your heart several times that she agreed to go have your blood washed off of her.”  
Legolas felt a strong surge of hope. Surely she cared strongly about him if she was willing to do all of that… right?  
“How long have we been here?” he asked Elrond.  
“Nearly three days,” came the reply. “She practically carried you here. Never did I think that I would see the day when Legolas Thranduil’s son would owe his life to a woman.”  
Elrond’s face broke into a smile. Legolas laughed, too, before falling back asleep.

 

When he woke again, Tauriel was in the room. She was looking out the window, but he could tell that she’d been keeping watch by his bedside for hours. The sun lit up her hair and made it shine like fire, and Legolas simply admired her until she turned back to look at him.  
“Tauriel,” he greeted her softly. She leaned closer.  
“Legolas!” The joy that had lit up her face when she realized he was awake gave way to a mix of anger and sadness. “What were you thinking?” she asked him. “You could have died!” Legolas looked more closely at her, surprised. There were tears in her eyes. “You took the arrow meant for me.” She knelt by his side, the tears that had gathered in her eyes spilling onto her cheeks. Legolas reached out to wipe them away, but Tauriel grabbed his hand before it touched her face. “Never do that again, Legolas. Not for me. I’m not worth it. I’m not worth it.” She began sobbing in earnest, and Legolas’ heart twisted at the sound. He put his hand under her chin and gently forced her to look up at him.  
“Look at me, Tauriel, meleth nîn,” he said, his heart pounding in his chest at the term of endearment he’d just used. “You are more than worth it. I love you more than life itself, and I will gladly lay down mine for yours, if I must.” Tauriel’s face was full of both sorrow and wonder.  
“Legolas,” she said, and he felt his heart skip at the tender tone in her voice. But before he had time to dwell on it, her lips were on his. His mind went blank, but the rest of him responded. Before he even knew what was happening he was kissing her back, one hand full of her silky hair and the other wrapped firmly around her waist. Her own arms were twined around his neck. Legolas didn’t want to come up for air, but eventually he had to. Tauriel caressed his cheek, and he reached up to hold her hand with his own.  
“Oh, Legolas,” she said softly. “I love you so much.”  
Legolas felt as though time had stopped. The words he had longed to hear for centuries had, at long last, crossed her lips.  
“Tauriel,” he said, bringing her hand to his mouth. The look in her eyes told him that he didn’t need to say anything, and he kissed her slender fingers feeling that he could not possibly be any happier. She leaned down and captured his mouth with his, and he kissed her back eagerly, one hand slipping around her waist and the other reaching up to cup her cheek. She smiled against his lips and put her own arms around him. They were so immersed in each other that neither of them heard the door open. They didn’t even know that anyone was in the room until a forced cough sounded above them. They quickly broke apart, both breathing hard and both very red in the face. Elrond stood by the bed with an amused smile on his face. Legolas could tell that he wanted very much to make a comment on what he’d just witnessed, but all that the lord said was, “The evening meal is ready. Are you well enough to join us?”  
Legolas pushed himself up into a sitting position, his face flaming.  
“Yes,” he said meekly.  
“I shall make sure that your place is set,” Elrond said, exiting the room in short strides.  
Legolas turned to his beloved.  
“I’m sorry,” he began to say, but Tauriel cut him off with another kiss. He took that to mean that she forgave him.


End file.
